Like father, like son
by Alessiah
Summary: Peter Maximoff might not have his father's name, but evidently, he has more than enough of the infamous Lehnsherr genes, including the ones that will one day be responsible for Charles' inevitable breakdown. Or the time, after the Apocalypse, when Peter screws up and accidentally ups the population of Lehnsherr/Maximoff-ville to plus one. And Charles isn't amused.


This quick oneshot is the result of the newest casting news from the upcoming movie Dark Phoenix. Earlier this week it was announced that an actress Kota Eberhardt would portray a mutant named Luna, and of course, my first reaction was, _Luna, as in, THAT Luna?_ So, even though she probably won't, and Luna can potentially be just a codename for another mutant, and not Luna Maximoff, this idea sprung to my mind, and the result is this fic.

It's a bit of a crack fic, because, _why not,_ lol.

* * *

Charles Xavier, aka ''Professor X'' aka ''old man'' aka ''Wheels'', the founder, headmaster and professor of Xavier's school for gifted youngsters was not having a good day.

Now, you might say, there are many reasons for a professor to get their day ruined, and in a way you would be certainly right. However, Charles believed himself to be one tough cookie, after dealing with troubled super powered teenagers for years, so Kitty falling down the stairs and Bobby freezing all the water in the pipes, making them explode and rendering the mansion without fresh water until Hank fixed it, didn't even phase him in the slightest.

At this point he was pretty much dead inside and he was immensely proud of this remarkable achievement.

Yet, Charles Xavier, aka ''Professor X'' aka ''old man'' aka ''Wheels'', the founder, headmaster and professor of Xavier's school for gifted youngsters was still the same man who encountered a god-like being and proceeded to engage into a fistfight with it in the astral realm.

Meaning, he might have died inside over the course of the last few years but he still had no chill. Like, none at all. Zero. Nada. Nichts.

Combine that particular personality quirk with his bad day, and you find yourself standing in the middle of a surprisingly empty hallway, with a bald explosive mass wheeling towards you with an alarming speed and fierce determination of a mass murderer on a roll.

Peter swallowed and nervously shifted on his feet.

He had a strong hunch he knew just why one Charles Xavier looked ready to develop a secondary mutation involving deadly laser vision, no offense to Scott.

He had already almost decided to escape what was shaping to be a _slightly_ uncomfortable situation but a sensation of drool trailing off his arm brought him back to his senses. He wasn't a paediatrician, but he guessed that being carried away at the speed of light could potentially turn out damaging for a baby. It never was for him, of course, but that's because he was the one who was speeding. Either way, he decided he wasn't about to test it.

This meant he had to man up and face Mr. Death on two wheels. He'd decided that facing En Sabah Nur would be a far easier task than this.

He gulped nervously and next to him Hank patted his shoulder sympathetically.

"There, there." He said, _almost_ feeling bad for the speedy mutant "It will be fine. I'm sure Charles won't be _too_ angry."

They both stared at the fast approaching, wheel-chair bound, murder-faced mutant.

Peter side-eyed him, visibly unnerved. "You are a paragon of empathy Hank."

The baby in his arms gave what he decided was a gurgle of agreement.

"Awww don't worry." He glanced away from Hank to coo at the infant's round face, raising his arms and bringing her to his eye-level. "Daddy's gonna sort this out in a sec."

The small baby blinked with her unfocused eyes, and the edges of his lips almost started to twist upwards, into a small smile, before she suddenly sneezed into his face, promptly ruining the moment.

"Ewugh." He wiped the saliva and God knows what else off his face, and shared a look of disgust with Hank. "Gross."

"This is why I don't ever plan on having kids." The blue mutant muttered, grimacing. Peter snorted.

"Tell me about it, man. I've had Luna for two days and I already feel the need to turn my auto-biography into a 'use protection' commercial."

Hank chuckled.

"At least she's cute."

Peter had to agree with that one. She was pretty cute, when, y'kno, she wasn't burping or puking or pooping or just leaking from everywhere like it's usual for the babies. But even that was forgiven, given her age. And they could call him biased all they wanted, but when she looked at him with her wide blue eyes, matched with the small tuft of whiteish or extremely light hair, he couldn't help but think she was the most adorable thing he had ever seen. Peter wasn't sure yet if she inherited the unusual color of his hair, but so far it seemed pretty promising.

"Looks deceive. Just because she inherited my Maximoff good looks doesn't mean she isn't also descended from the devil himself." He snickered.

Hank peeked over his shoulder to look his daughter over analytically. Peter noted that he even rubbed his chin with his hand, like a giant nerd he was.

"Yes, that surprise sneeze tactic was like one of Erik's… lesser known quirks." He agreed.

Peter blinked.

"Erik sneezes into people's faces?"

"Well-"

"No he doesn't." A new voice interrupted Hank before he could explain to Peter in an exhausting detail how the mutant terrorist also known as Magneto once sneezed into someone's face, rendering them all speechless.

An angry new voice. They broke the eye contact to see the certain bald professor sitting in his wheelchair right in front of them, with a hard look on his face, that clearly meant business.

Peter swallowed again and Hank once again patted his shoulders in a half-hearted attempt to emote.

"Hank leave us. And please fix the pipes, _please_." Charles said, eyes narrowed. "This is between Peter and I."

Peter turned his pleading eyes to Hank but the blue bastard had obvious mad respect for the professor and deserted him immediately like the traitor he was. He didn't even meet his eyes, obviously more than eager to be omitted from the awkwardness of the upcoming conversation.

"So." Charles turned towards him now and Peter felt the need to drop the baby like it burnt him and go live somewhere, preferably in Mexico or South Africa – he'd heard nothing but compliments about the great weather down there -, under a new name. A very Erik-like instinct indeed.

"So." Charles repeated, clearly indicating to the usually _extremely_ talkative mutant to _finally start talking for God's sake_ , and Peter hated when adults did that but he had to give the tactic points for intimidation.

"Uhhh…" He tried "Surprise?" He attempted a smile but frankly, it looked pathetic. _"Mexico it is."_

The older man was not amused as it was evident on his face, posture and Peter wasn't a telepath but honestly, he could basically hear his professor's thoughts out loud, and not even one of them was remotely nice. Frankly, Peter didn't think Charles had any right to be pissed at him. He could be out there being an alcoholic, training a terroristic SWAT team or just straight up being a terrorist or whatever he and Erik did when they were Peter's age because Peter heard stories, _alright._ But no, instead he was being a semi-responsible parent but somehow that is an offence worse than the time Scott pretended to be blind to get a free seat on the bus.

It was the height of injustice and he was not going to stand it.

…okay maybe he was going to stand it. But only because Charles had such a terrifying pissed-off face.

"Look, I'm sorry okay? I wasn't planning this. Her." He stuttered, "I mean-I wasn't planning on her."

Charles sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, suddenly very aware that this was already the third generation that held the infamous Lehnsherr genes and frankly he didn't know how much more of that he could bear.

"Of all irresponsible things my students have done, none of them ever _sired a child_ under my watch."

Peter cringed. "Sorry." He attempted again "I'm not trying to be Erik Jr., but Crystal thought her mutation left her infertile and she gives killer massages which, y'kno, is godsend if your skills are running around punching things all day and it turned out she can also-"

"-Stop." Now Charles was the one cringing putting a stop to Peter's rambling. "I don't need the details, _please_."

"Right. Sorry, again." Peter mumbled awkwardly, "Her name's Luna by the way. Thought you should know."

The older man probably sensed his distress and sighed.

"You couldn't have picked a better day?" He asked wearily, his anger evaporating.

In his defence, Peter wanted to wait a bit - a time period ranging from at least a few days to preferably never - before telling Charles his ex had a child that _somehow_ shares half his DNA but Peter really wouldn't know _anything_ about how _that_ happened, scout's honor.

But then he discovered that his daughter was a mutant, with abilities based on what seems like telepathy or some similar mojo, and he had enough of his father in him to be extremely wary of people messing with his mind, especially if said people were a baby that had no idea what she was doing.

Plus, Mystique saw him and ratted him out. It was better facing Charles in the mansion, than facing Erik in his apartment, because if Peter knew Raven, she told everyone she knew. He still had those horrid flashbacks to when Raven told basically everyone in the mansion Erik's his father, which resulted into an incredibly awkward situation once Erik found out. He still had a chip on his shoulder about the whole thing.

He told Charles as much.

"It was either facing you or staying there and waiting till dad shows up and starts being smart about being careful and using protection, and between you being pissed or _Magneto giving me the talk_ ,…" he paused and his face contorted into a hilarious mixture of a grin and grimace"….I choose facing your wrath every time.«

Charles blinked.

"Erik knows?" He asked with an evil sort of glee, at, Peter supposed, his expense.

The speedster's grin dimmed.

"No need to be so cheery about it." He grumbled "Yes he knows, he called me to give me a piece of his mind already."

The other man seemed offended. "He told me he doesn't have a phone."

The speedy mutant snorted. "God I wish. He calls me every two hours." _Make him stop please,_ remained unsaid.

Charles apparently decided that Erik's communication habits weren't worth talking about, presumably to spare the remnants of his pride, and gestured the silver haired mutant to lower himself and kneel, so he could see the spawn of his flesh better.

Peter was only all too glad to do it.

"She has blue eyes." The professor noted, which Peter supposed was an observant notice, given how her eyes were currently closed.

"She's an empath." He said after a minute, glancing up. "She can feel and influence the emotions of others."

"So that's why Crystal was always feeling either sleepy or hungry." Peter guessed. This proved that babies were _inhuman_ spawns of the devil with only two moods: feed me or leave me the fuck alone.

Charles nodded. "At this age, she's just projecting. And infants don't have that wide of an emotional range, or a lot of energy really, so she mostly projected what was bothering her on the ones closest to her."

It made sense, Peter supposed.

"And my speed gives me immunity, right?" Damn, he loved his mutation.

Charles nodded, without looking from Luna's resting face.

"She also seems to be immune to telepaths. The only reason I can feel her powers is because she's attempting to project on me."

Peter whistled.

"Well thank God she can't affect me. I was thinking about ordering one of those knock-off Magneto helmets from e-bay, cause my good sense let me know that stealing the real deal would be a _bad idea_."

Charles chuckled at that."No helmets needed." It was amusing to say the least, that Erik's offsprings (and the offspring of one of his offsprings), seemed to manifest the one power and ability Erik himself, always craved for. Immunity from telepaths. It was almost hilarious. Almost.

He finally tore his gaze from the baby and looked Peter in the eyes "As long as she's in my general vicinity, I can protect those around her from her projections."

Peter blinked.

"Well that's neat, but I kinda have an apartment and a job now, and I can't just leave it y'know? Is there a way you could block her from accessing her powers until she's older or something?"

"Sadly, I can't do anything else than protect others from her. Her mutation prevents me from even touching her mind."

 _"Great._ " Peter sighed, glancing away to the far corner of the hallway.

"Is my old room still free?" He asked, giving in. He could do with living here for few more years, he told himself. It's not like his job was all that grand or something, he just picked up leaves and painted the white lines on the road. Not much room for promotion either, and no insurance, not that he needed it with his friends being who they were. But it was something, and it was enough for his family to stop calling him a slob.

"Yes, but we can station you in one of joint rooms so Luna will be able to have her own space."

Peter wanted to remind him that she's a baby, for gosh sake, and that babies don't move around that much, surprisingly, but then he realised to his ultimate horror that Luna wouldn't be an immobile helpless baby forever. Charles was actually doing him a favour here.

"Sure." He shrugged. »I have her crib and stuff in the car, so if you showed me where the room was and held her for a while, I could set it up."

Charles was apparently feeling lazy, as he just sent him the mental image of where the room was but Peter would take it. The older man was almost all too eager to take Peter's drooling burden from him.

He handled Luna carefully, supporting her fragile baby head. It seemed she was in her sleepy mood though, as she didn't even wake up, which didn't seem to disappoint the other man at all. Charles grinned down at the child in his arms, causing the speedster to raise his eyebrow in puzzlement.

"I'll get to tell Erik I held his granddaughter before him." He offered as an explanation and Peter thought it was all kinds of petty but he also wasn't going to say that Erik didn't deserve it, after what he pulled with his phone. Whosoever taught him that calling people, even family members at unholy hours of the day and night is totally fine, should be persecuted at the spot.

"Would you mind getting my camera? It's somewhere in my room. I want to have proof." Charles asked in his 'I'm-too-petty-for-my-own-good' voice.

"Be back in a sec." He told Charles before tapping into that unseen part of him that slowed down the time into a crawl. Through the years it only got stronger, but his reckless rush to use it faded as he matured. Don't get him wrong, he loved his powers, and loved using them in everyday situations just to show off. Yet the desire to run, to feel that familiar sense of power run though his veins and set him free has long since faded from an unscratchable itch to an occasional nudge in his mind.

It only took a second for him to set up everything, and he was back before Charles' brain registered he left. He even took the time to look for the man's camera.

Regretfully, he let the speed go and time speed up. It felt like coming off from being high on something. Not that he would know how that felt of course.

He waved with the camera in front of slightly startled Charles.

"Say cheese!" He told him, even taking time for the man to compose himself, out of pure goodness of his heart. If Charles wanted to out-petty the undeclared yet universally acknowledged lord of pettiness, Peter wanted to be an accomplice.

With a snap, the picture was taken and Peter took the camera to Hank to get it developed. It wouldn't be long until the drama llama himself arrived, after all.

This time it took a bit longer to return to his pseudo step-father and his unfortunate offspring because he needed to explain _why_ he needed the picture developed to a certain blue-furred mutant. As smart as he was, Hank just didn't understand the concept of for the lolz, which was a shame really, because he was sure that under all that fur and body image issues laid a golden mine of humour.

If he was to live here again, he set it out for himself to find it.

He was almost a professional when it came to unlocking sense of humour in people. He helped Erik reach his potential, though that achievement was shadowed by his unfortunate realisation of just what he had unknowingly unleashed, because Erik's hidden sense of humour turned out to be a mix of nihilism, sarcasm and dad jokes.

Needless to say, Peter had regrets.

Upon returning to where he left the drooling monster, he found out that they were no longer alone.

A familiar blue figure was crouched next to Charles with his signature tail entertaining the baby. On first sight, it looked like the devil himself had come to collect its minion, which would be a relief to Peter, truly.

Alas it was not to be, and the blue figure was just one Kurt Wagner being his usual cinnamon roll self and melting at the sight of babies. Peter was honest to God convinced that the guy was born with heavenly fanfares blazing, amongst puppies and kittens with a double rainbow illuminating him.

Though he had it on good word from Mystique that it definitely didn't happen like that but Peter wasn't going to let something as little as the account of the guy's mother stop him from thinking that.

It seemed like he would have to live with the drool-demon for another day after all.

»Kurt!« He called, late to reunion but more than ready to rekindle old friendships.

»Hallo Peter!« The young man in question stopped cooing at Luna for long enough to wave at him before deciding that a drolly baby was more interesting than it's father who happened to be a good friend with whom he hadn't met in a few months, since he _suspiciously_ moved out of the mansion.

The traitor. He was no better than the Manor's other residential blue dude. At this point he was starting to connect the colour blue with deception.

"Is zis your child?" the teleporter asked with a fang-showing grin on his face.

"No I pulled it out of the trash can on my way to work." Peter rolled his eyes. "Of course she's mine!"

"She does haffe your noze." Kurt noted, ignoring the sarcasm, which further proved that he was too good for this world and they didn't deserve him.

"Really?" Charles jumped in eagerly, leaning over the baby too "I thought that nose was all Erik."

Peter sputtered.

"Hey!" He bristled "This is _my_ child; can you stop talking about your ex? Please, thank you."

Charles looked deeply offended. "Erik is not my ex." He said in strained voice, like it physically hurt him.

That sparkled Kurt's interest.

"Zo you're ztill together?" He scratched his head "I thought that he vaz with Mystique now. I zent him ein card for Father's day." He must have noticed their staring because he elaborated "I thought he vaz mein stepfather now."

In reality though, the additional explanation was entirely unnecessary. Peter supposed Charles was glaring because of the comment about Mystique while Peter himself was just offended Kurt tried to steal his dad, albeit unknowingly.

"Hold on for a sec buddy!" He jumped in "You did what?! That's _my_ dad!"

Kurt waved his arms around helplessly, his tail swishing through the air as baby Luna watched with utter fascination.

"You don't effen like him!" He defended himself.

Peter gasped. "How dare you!" He waved his hand dramatically to let Kurt know he wasn't really upset with him. The whole thing was actually pretty hilarious to him. "I'll have you know, I like Erik well enough, it's just that his fashion decisions make my heart hurt and my eyes bleed so I have to keep my distance."

"Erik is with Raven now?" Charles muttered weakly, like Kurt just broke a bottle of his favourite whiskey.

Peter snorted. "Wouldn't surprise me, they've been hanging out a lot lately." He side-eyed Charles "And I'm pretty sure they were sleeping together in the past." Not that he would know, _of course._

Charles waved his hand dismissively. "We don't talk about that, the past doesn't matter, I'm talking about now currently."

"As far as I know he's single and ready to mingle." Peter shrugged.

"But I wanted ein step-dad." Kurt whined dramatically.

"Well, find your own. I'll have you know, I worked hard to get Erik as my dad. I had to domesticate him and all." Peter shut him down. "It took quite a while, thank you very much."

The speedster paused for a moment, looking at Kurt.

"Dude, if anything, Hank is your step-dad. I saw him and Mystique once and they were definitely not platonic." He added as a second thought, with mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Can we not talk about who my sister is uhhh… involved with?" Charles groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Efferyone thinks Hank und I are related just becauze ve're both blue, it's annoying und doezn't haffe the zame plot-tvist feeling to it." Kurt ignored his professor entirely, much to his annoyance.

Peter gaped, mockingly. "Doth mine ears deceiveth me?" He exclaimed »Art thou maketh a jest?«

"Vhy good zir, I'm plenty funny." Kurt gestured to himself self-importantly with his tail. Peter was just about to tell him that this joke was at least a century old when another familiar voice made itself known.

"Peter?"

Jean Grey dropped her glass of milk on her boyfriend's shoes in shock, making him jump a bit in process "Since when do you have a daughter?" She asked in a tone mixed with demand and honest surprise while Scott yelped and cursed.

Her words made him freeze and look up from his ruined shoes.

"You have a what now?!" He shrieked and Peter made a mental note to blackmail him later for that.

Peter coughed uncomfortably. "Well, you see-" he started before stopping suddenly. He had no idea what to say, if he was entirely honest with himself. He didn't dare to sass Jean after the whole screaming fire-goose thing. Phoenix, or whatever. Charles couldn't explain it, and he didn't dare push it.

In all honesty, he had two responses. Sass or honesty and he wasn't about to go talking about the whole mess with Crystal in front of everyone. There was a reason he was alone in this mess now.

Kurt saved him, once again, by lifting the baby up so the newcomers could see her.

"Look!" He exclaimed with a wide smile on his face, "Her name iz Luna and she's cute." Unfortunately, it turned out Luna didn't like being manhandled by blue demons that much, and started screaming (Peter couldn't call that unholy sound crying).

Anyway, he still zapped to her in a second, trying his best to comfort her.

Jean stared dumb-founded. "She's telepathic?" She directed the question toward Charles, who looked completely drained.

"Emphatic." The man affirmed.

"I didn't know psychic mutations could develop so soon." She said in bewilderment, watching the squirming baby with pure fascination.

"They usually don't but Luna is a third generation mutant, so it makes sense for her powers to develop sooner." Charles sighed. It seemed like he'd only now realized what a ride awaited them.

"Am I the only one still surprised that Peter has a child?" Said Scott to no one in particular like the attention hog he was. "Like, a living, breathing child?"

Peter stopped trying to comfort Luna for long enough to roll his eyes in Scott's direction so the other man could see him do it.

"Yes, Summers, I am in fact, capable of procreation." He glared at him "Now that we've cleared that up, is there _anybody else_ that would like to marvel at the fact that I have spawned an offspring?" By nature, Peter was an extremely patient person, the others just didn't get that, but this whole thing went out of control _ages_ ago, and he was pretty much done with it and everyone.

He knew the moment he said it, that it was the wrong thing to say. It was like saying 'What could possibly go wrong?' on a mission or 'At least it's not raining' on a failed date.

As if trying to prove him that today seemed like a nice day to go insane on, the doors blew open by themselves and one very drunk master of magnetism stumbled through and it physically hurt Peter to not face palm at his unfortunate luck.

"Charles!" Erik cried, and by that Peter meant, literally cried. Like, there were tears rolling down his cheeks "My son has forsaken me!"

"And then there's him."

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A review is much appreciated.

Thanks for reading!


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